


The Wedding Hall Shuffle

by icespyders



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Meetings, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Waltzing, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-06 15:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4226874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icespyders/pseuds/icespyders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Box steps for a waltz are easy, even if you've never done them before, even if you learned at a strangers' wedding from another stranger, even if you're not quite sure what you're doing. But love? Love is something else, something without regimented one-two-three-four patterns, without rules.</p><p>Maybe it's silly, but Kenma thinks he might be figuring it out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Missteps

Admittedly Kenma could have a bit of a one-track mind, but this had to be a new record. Somehow he didn't think "I was stuck in a boss fight" was a good excuse for missing a friend's wedding but, oh well, he'd dug his own grave here and now he couldn't do much except face the consequences.

To be fair, it'd been a really hard boss fight. No one could blame him for getting so engrossed.

He cursed under his breath as he checked the time in the car. The ceremony was long over now, but he'd make the reception. Hastily, he fixed his tie in the mirror before speeding backwards out the driveway, brow furrowed as he drove. His stomach was doing some unpleasant leaps because he actually did feel awful about this; he'd been friends with Hinata Shouyou for ages, since they were roommates in college, and Shouyou hadn't shut up about that scary-looking quiet boyfriend of his since the day they'd met. Kenma had never said much to Kageyama, considering he was kind of terrifying - Shouyou had tried to convince Kenma that Kageyama was just shy, but Kenma wasn't sold on it - but he was happy they were finally getting married. Observing their interactions whenever Shouyou brought Kageyama around the dorm had presented sufficient evidence they were head-over-heels for each other and, well, Kenma didn't seem like the type, but he liked a good love story as much as the next guy. He wouldn't play dating sims if he didn't. It was hard to make that argument walking in late to somebody's wedding, though. Shouyou wouldn't be mad, but Kenma was extremely wary of landing on Kageyama's bad side. Doing so seemed like a point of no return.

He parked sloppily outside the reception hall, because he just didn't have time for anything else, dammit, this was a dire moment, and tugged his phone out of his cardigan pocket as he walked up the front steps. He doubted Shouyou would pick up, because he was at his own wedding reception and all, but it was worth a try. And it'd be easier to offer the apology to him first.

Kenma wandered in, trying not to draw any attention; fortunately the room was dark except for scant multicolored lights that wouldn't have looked out of place in a middle school dance, wow, it was kind of tacky. The people he passed waved and smiled over the rims of their drinks and Kenma waved back half-heartedly, more preoccupied with the phone on his ear. It was decidedly difficult to hear over the music and Kenma couldn't see anything with the lights so low. He didn't spot Shouyou anywhere, but Kageyama wasn't looming out of the darkness either, which was comforting.

Endless apologetic words wound like a mantra through his head. The groveling had to be good, considering what a major friendship infraction this was. Only douchebags skipped the ceremony part of their friends' weddings, Kenma lectured himself sternly. He really should have set a timer or something before he started the stupid boss fight, he'd only been at it to kill time before the ceremony anyway. What a mess.

The line picked up and Kenma raised his eyebrows; he hadn't been expecting that. "Kenma?" Shouyou answered, his voice sounding muffled as Kenma clapped a hand over his ear to hear better. "Where are you? It's so loud there!"

"I'm at the reception hall," Kenma explained, guilt kicking at him because this meant Shouyou had noticed his absence already. The words flooded out of him in a rush: "Listen, I'm really sorry, I know I'm late and I missed the ceremony and all but I didn't mean to and I'm here now so--"

"Wait, wait, what?! _Where_ did you say you were?" Shouyou interrupted. He sounded amused for some puzzling reason.

"The reception hall," Kenma repeated, his frown deepening. "For your wedding."

He jerked the phone from his ear as Shouyou started laughing so loudly it turned into static on the speaker. " _What?_ " he howled, laughing breathlessly. "You're...oh my god, Kenma, no, what are you even--"

"What's so funny?" Kenma questioned, voice low and suspicious.

"Kenma, the wedding's _next_ week. You're there earlier than anybody. You're there earlier than _me!_ " Kenma blanched and felt the bottom drop from his stomach. It was funny, but now that he thought about it, he wasn't exactly sure of today's date. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't laugh, but...they seriously let you in to some other wedding reception? What the hell!"

"I'm...yeah, they didn't, like, check my ID or anything, I'm pretty sure they assumed people wouldn't just walk in," Kenma muttered defensively, but Shouyou wasn't listening.

"Tobio! Tobio, come here! Guess who's at our wedding now," he was calling gleefully. Kenma huffed, irate, and twisted the end of his sleeve between his fingers, listening to Kageyama's mumbled voice in the background. "Kenma mixed up the dates--" Oh god, now he was laughing too, the sound smaller but no less derisive. Had he ever heard Kageyama laugh before? This definitely wasn't the right time for it. "I know! No, he said he just walked in! Literally! Nobody even asked him!"

"They better enforce our guest list next week, I'm going to make sure and remind them now that I know their security's absolute garbage," Kageyama said, loud enough for Kenma to hear.

"Imagine we missed our own wedding? That'd be so funny," Shouyou chattered.

"Thank god it's not tonight, half the shit's not even ready. You said you'd have the place cards done two days ago, moron."

"I know, I know! I'll do it, don't worry." Kenma cleared his throat loudly to remind Shouyou he was still on the line. It worked like a charm. "Oh! Sorry. I forgot. Um...hey, this is good news, right? You didn't miss anything after all! It's all fine. Why were you late anyway?"

"No reason," Kenma retorted. He stared around as he spoke, abruptly feeling uncomfortable around so many strangers. He'd wondered why nobody here seemed to be familiar; he'd expected to run into Shouyou's old volleyball teammates or other family members with wild orange hair, none of whom were present, obviously. In fact, the dark-haired crowd could have been Kageyama's relatives if they weren't all smiling and babbling over each other, something he could never imagine anyone related to Kageyama doing. At least the lame school dance lighting wasn't part of Shouyou's vision for his wedding, although it wouldn't have been that surprising; his taste wasn't particularly refined.

"Were you playing games too long?" Shouyou teased.

Kenma puffed a lock of hair out of his face. "Yes," he admitted, sullen.

"Ha! Knew it. It was either that or you got wrapped up feeding stray cats again," he replied matter-of-factly, and Kenma wished he could express his scowl over the phone. See, this was the tricky thing about Shouyou: he had an uncanny ability to be right about most things, despite appearing kind of dense. And being kind of dense. He was especially good with other people, as in he could actually interact with them instead of merely observing from afar as Kenma did. Kenma had always been a little jealous of his friend's social graces, which far outstripped his own. It just seemed so easy for him; Shouyou could walk into a room full of strangers and when he walked out they'd all be his friends. Kenma, meanwhile, walked into a room full of strangers, skirted around the edges of the room, and disappeared at his earliest convenience. Such was the case now; he'd ended up on the far end of the reception hall, weaving through the crowd as he spoke, and...oh no where had the door gone? Dammit. "Are you still at the reception? How's the wedding crashing going?"

"I didn't do it on purpose," Kenma shot back, mood still sour. "I'll be gone in a minute. And I'll see you next week." He hung up before he could be ridiculed further, or worse, for Shouyou to try and force him to talk to Kageyama. Shouyou was convinced they'd be friends if they only spoke to each other, but that was clearly wishful thinking on his part; Kageyama was even worse with people than Kenma was, and that was saying something, so it wasn't going to happen. He could barely manage a hello with the guy without getting worried Kageyama was actually going to glare daggers at him and stab him to death.

This was a dumb train of thought. Kenma shook himself out of his mental daze because he had actual problems right now, namely the fact that he had to get out of here before anyone recognized him as an intruder. Honestly, he was so embarrassed that he wanted to flee back home and never be seen in public again, and if the night went on any longer he'd probably drop dead from the stress. He'd rather be called a shut-in than be stuck in situations like this more frequently. In fact, he'd prefer that a million times over.

Shakily, he tried to settle his breathing. Okay. It was okay, it was fine. He'd walked in and it was a disaster, but now he merely had to walk back out. No big deal. Nobody would notice, or even care. This would all be over soon.

Before he could so much as move, though, someone had shoved a glass of champagne into his hands. He blinked, startled. "Great party, huh?" said a guy who just had to be somebody's drunk uncle, judging by the beer belly and the slur in his words.

Kenma froze, but the stranger was staring at him expectantly and it would have been weirder to not reply. "Uh. Yeah. Definitely," he agreed, eyes averted. Oh god, why was someone talking to him, he clearly didn't know anyone here. _Relax,_ he told himself as his free hand clenched in his pocket. He just had to play along for now, okay, he'd be out of here soon. The other guy raised his glass for a toast; Kenma mirrored him and sipped the champagne, which stung his mouth but at least having it ensured he wouldn't have to talk.

"It's been ages since the whole family's gotten together like this!" the guy went on; Kenma nodded, hopeless, glass still poised on his lips. "Have we met before? Wait, don't tell me, I know. You're not related to me, are you? I can never keep track."

"Oh. Um. No, I don't think we've met. It's been a long time, though," Kenma answered nervously, gaze still thrown anywhere but directly in front of him, as if he was genuinely fascinated by the patterns of the floorboards. Dammit. He could have maybe passed as a distant cousin if his natural hair was grown in, but most of it was still bleach-blond and distinctly conspicuous in this crowd.

"You must be one of my nephew's friends," the guy decided. "What's your name? I'm sure he's mentioned you."

"Kozume Kenma," Kenma supplied without thinking; he could have kicked himself for not dreaming up a pseudonym or avoiding the question or just taking some sort of emergency exit out of this conversation, anything except giving out his real name, but it had slipped out and he couldn't take it back. He chanced a second of eye contact because, seriously, staring at the floor was starting to get a bit noticeable.

The guy looked thoughtful, judging by his enormous, knit-together eyebrows. "Hmm. Never heard Koutarou mention you before." Alarm bells were blaring in Kenma's mind, it was over now, he was finished. Was there a law about wedding crashing? Would he go to jail? He couldn't go to jail, he'd left his 3DS in the car, what would he even do in jail? But it seemed some deity was looking out for him, because Kenma's new best friend - he _was_ somebody's uncle, Kenma had called it - suddenly laughed, eyes lit up. "Ah, of course not! You must know Keiji, then. My new nephew-in-law. I'm glad he's got friends here, he seems so reserved, even at his own wedding!"

Kenma forced a smile and nodded. "Yes, of course, he's very quiet," he lied through his teeth. He had no idea one way or the other but right now he just had to fake it. He tried to casually glance past Koutarou's uncle, whoever the hell Koutarou was, to find the door, but it was impossible with everything in shadows and all these people milling around and chattering and dancing horribly. Maybe there was no door and he was trapped here forever. Maybe this was hell? _Stop being stupid,_ he chided himself. This wasn't the time for an existential crisis.

He spotted the bar in a far corner, which was almost deserted; people came and went but no one was lingering. At the moment anywhere without people was basically heaven. "Oh, um, sorry, I need another drink," he said. There was still champagne in his glass, which he downed in one shot once he noticed it. He couldn’t keep a wince off his face as it went down. God, that stuff _burned_. He didn’t know why people bothered with drinking; for him, all it did was make his head swimmy and his hand-eye coordination suffer so he had to play on medium difficulty in games instead of hard. It was thoroughly underwhelming. "See?" He tipped the glass upside down to demonstrate its emptiness, feeling like a complete idiot in the process. This wasn't a good night and he wished, yet again, that he was at home, far away from shitty club music and weird strangers.

Random Drunk Uncle clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Damn right! This is a party, after all!" he cheered, and then wandered away laughing to himself. Kenma practically sprinted to the bar, settling into one of the stools and struggling to catch his breath again. It was an uphill battle; this was all because he was stressed. It used to happen all the time when he had to give presentations in school. As a general rule Kenma wasn't the best at dealing with crowds, especially not ones full of people he didn't know in places he wasn't supposed to be.

The vantage here at the bar was better; wait, was that the door? Yes, that seemed to be the direction he'd come from. He only had to--

"And just who might _you_ be?"

Kenma nearly jumped out of his skin, hands seizing up in his lap, and whipped around to see somebody else leering at him now. Didn't these people have better things to do than chat up random strangers? They were at a wedding, there was plenty else to pay attention to. As dumb as it was, he was starting to get fed up with everyone and everything here, even though it was his own fault he'd wandered in.

He squinted and shrugged. "No one," he answered, forcing himself to relax with limited success. He had to pretend he belonged here just for a little while longer, just until he could make it to the door, that was all. One more conversation with one more annoying stranger, and then he'd be home free.

The new stranger chuckled as he leaned on the bar. "You seem a little under-dressed for a wedding," he went on.

Kenma fidgeted with the sleeves of his cardigan, feeling aggrieved. "I'm wearing a tie. It's fine," he said; honestly, he was dressed way better than usual, considering his usual attire was a small step up from pajamas. And he didn't come here to get judged for his fashion choices anyway. He scanned the other guy critically, taking in his rolled-up dress shirt sleeves, unbuttoned vest without any jacket to speak of, and ridiculously bright red pants. To say nothing of his disastrous hair. It looked like he'd never so much as seen a comb in his life. "Besides, it's not like you're wearing a tux or anything," he commented, raising an eyebrow.

"Best man gets special privileges, duh," he replied lightly, shrugging and swirling his drink around. Kenma watched the cherry in the glass orbit the center in endless rotations until it made him dizzy. "You didn't answer my question. I'm waiting."

"What question?"

"Who might you be?"

"That's a dumb question. There's a lot of people I might be," Kenma answered loftily. Nobody else was getting his name tonight, nope, no way.

The other guy laughed and Kenma scowled as he watched him drain the glass in his hand. "Clever. Okay, I'll try again. Kuroo Tetsurou, the best man in town," he introduced himself; had he edged closer somehow? Kenma scooted to the far side of his barstool.

"More like Kuro with your hair," he replied with his eyes flickering over Kuroo's face, still trying to deflect answering anything definitively.

"I'd compliment your wordplay but you're playing this game wrong," Kuroo informed him before tipping the cherry into his mouth. "See, you're supposed to say your name now."

"Why do you care about my name so much?" Kenma questioned.

Kuroo hummed with the cherry stem poking out from the corner of his mouth. "Because I'm fairly certain you're crashing this wedding and I'm trying to figure out for sure," he replied, and Kenma felt his face heat up immediately. Oh no. He wasn't prepared for somebody to call him out. Weren't people supposed to be drunk at weddings? Nobody should have been sharp enough to recognize Kenma as an outsider, this was ridiculous.

"You don't know that," he retorted, a little too fast to be inconspicuous.

"Yeah, I definitely do," Kuroo answered, his tone much too casual for somebody making such wild accusations. "Like, come on, level with me here. I planned half this wedding and Bokuto's been my friend for literal ages, I know everyone he knows, and I _definitely_ do not know you." Kenma opened his mouth to argue but Kuroo continued, "And trust me, I'd remember you if I did know you." He twisted his lips and then turned to grin wide at Kenma; the cherry stem caught between his teeth was now tied in a neat knot.

"Nice middle school trick. I'm very impressed," Kenma commented, derisive but mostly desperate for any sort of distraction.

"I'd like to see you try it," Kuroo said, sounding almost offended as he deposited the stem in his glass.

"I don't have anything to prove," Kenma snapped, forcing an acidic glare.

"Damn, that was cold. Who pissed in your corn flakes, ice queen?" Kuroo laughed, but Kenma had seen his eyebrows shoot up in surprise and counted it as a victory. "Alright, fine, no more magic tricks. Really, though, who are you?"

Kenma exhaled through his nose. He was cornered now. No point fighting. "Kozume Kenma."

Kuroo nodded as if he'd been expecting this. "Yep. You were definitely not on the guest list, wedding crasher. I should report you," he said, his seriousness undermined by his smirk. Kenma hadn't actually seen a real person pull off an anime-antagonist-style smirk before, but Kuroo had it down to a science.

"I am not. I know Keiji," Kenma lied, summoning up one of the names the drunk uncle had thrown out. He didn't know why he was disputing the truth like this. Pride, maybe? To prove he was right, even when he wasn't? Just to avoid the interrogation? He had to do _something_.

But apparently the latest lie was a mistake, because Kuroo started laughing incredulously. "Akaashi? Wow, you're not even trying. Akaashi has, like, three friends and you're not one of them. And you can't be related to him--"

"You don't know that." This was stupid, Kenma knew he was done for, but somehow here he was arguing that he belonged at the wedding he was accidentally crashing.

"Your last name's different!"

"We're distant cousins."

"Come on--"

"By marriage."

"Uh-huh. So he'd definitely recognize you right now if I were to introduce you?" He had apparently quit disputing all the things Kenma said, but Kenma saw through it; Kuroo was only trying to trap him in a lie once and for all and the pressure was building, but utter fabrications just kept flying out of his mouth. It would have been funny if Kenma wasn't so stressed, though, how Kuroo kept playing along with things he obviously knew weren't true.

"No, I haven't seen him in a very long time."

"Convenient."

"Tragic, really."

"Oh? What are the circumstances?"

"Too tragic to describe."

"Ah, of course they are."

"Mm-hmm. I wasn't on the list because I was trying to surprise him."

"So which one is Keiji, Mr. Mysterious Cousin?"

Dammit. Kenma had clearly lost this volley of lying. "The one without a drunk uncle," he tried anyway, arms crossed and eyes rooted to the floor.

"Ha! Wrong. Completely wrong. All their uncles are drunk. _Everyone_ here is drunk except you and me," Kuroo said smugly.

Kenma raised his eyebrows. "I'm pretty sure I just saw you drink."

"I," Kuroo began, flailing his empty glass around in a melodramatic swoop, "am tipsy, my dear Kenma. There's a huge difference."

Kenma snorted. "I don't know you well enough for you to call me that," he said, feeling the ends of his mouth quirk up a bit regardless. It was undermining the attempted aloofness, but he couldn't help it, it was funny.

"Call me Kuro. We'll be even then," Kuroo suggested. "I don't really mind, I'm a sucker for a good pun like that."

Kenma's small-smiling mouth was a complete traitor. He couldn't help this one either, though, because it was weirdly...sweet, somehow. He sighed. "Alright. If you want."

"Wonderful. I feel so much closer to you. Will you tell me why you're here now? For real this time," Kuroo requested. Kenma fell silent and Kuroo rolled his eyes and groaned. "Listen, I'm not gonna kick you out or call the cops or any dumb shit like that, I'm actually curious. And I've been babysitting drunk people for like three hours, the boredom is going to kill me in a minute."

Kenma slid his eyes over, carefully weighing the question. "There are too many fascinating people here to be bothering with me," he said, but his arms were uncrossing themselves almost of their own volition.

"No way," Kuroo scoffed. "You're way more interesting 'cause I don't know you yet." He offered a more genuine sort of smile, one without any of the teasing bravado he'd carried earlier. "Plus I'm not risking getting puked on if I hang out with you, right?"

Kenma scoffed, but in a split second he'd decided. Okay, fine, maybe Kuroo wasn't so bad. He was certainly a big step up from Random Drunk Uncle, in any case.

He dropped his gaze and fiddled with a loose thread on his sweater. "Um. It was a mistake, actually," he admitted, voice low.

Kuroo laughed again, but Kenma was getting more and more used to the sound and it wasn't so off-putting anymore. "What? How do you mistakenly crash a wedding?"

"My friend's reception is going to be here next week."

"So how...?" The abrupt look of realization that passed Kuroo's face actually made Kenma laugh a bit this time; Kuroo's eyebrows shot up so high they disappeared entirely into his wild mess of hair. "Oh my god! Did you get the date wrong and wander in here like a total asshole?"

"Basically."

Kuroo's hand slammed onto the bar as he kept laughing. "Amazing! That's amazing. You must feel like--"

"The biggest moron on the planet, yeah," Kenma supplied, but that tiny smile was stuck on his face. He supposed it was pretty funny, all in all, and a good story to tell next week, if nothing else.

"So let me walk through this: you're here by mistake, this isn't the right wedding, you don't know anybody, and you're totally confused. Why were you talking to Bokuto's uncle, then?"

"He handed me champagne and started talking. I was helpless."

Kuroo nodded sagely. "Yup, that'd be a Bokuto relative. I think that's how me and Bokuto became friends anyway, he just started talking at me. Classic," he said with a snicker. "Wow. The accidental wedding crasher. You should write a script or something."

Kenma shrugged. "It wouldn't be too interesting. All I did tonight was feel stupid."

"You met me, that's gotta count for something," Kuroo said.

"Mm-hmm, I suppose it's not every day you meet a grown man who can't brush his own hair," Kenma agreed.

Kuroo rolled his eyes and puffed his bangs out of his face. "Aw, come on, that's low. It's not like I don't try," he grumbled.

It was kind of funny to see Kuroo get offended over something as trivial as hairdos, so Kenma pressed on, "It almost looks like you did it on purpose. I knew a guy who did his hair weird in middle school, he said he was going to start a metal band when he got older."

"You're one to talk, pudding-head," Kuroo retorted.

"It's just hair," Kenma said with a shrug, hearing Kuroo scoff in response. "It doesn't bother me. And mine's not threatening to take over my entire head either."

"Hate to break it to you, but I don't have alien life thriving on my scalp, just the worst bedhead on earth," Kuroo explained, and then laughed. "Oh man, you should have seen Bokuto. At least his hair’s on purpose."

"Ah. The groom."

"One of."

"Right. Are they still around?"

Kuroo grinned and rolled his eyes. "Oh, somewhere, I guess. I'm not sure. I'm supposed to be tastefully deflecting questions on their whereabouts, but you don't give a shit, so it's cool."

"Where are they--?"

Kuroo threw him a withering look. "Kenma, please. It's their wedding night, where do _you_ think they are?" he asked. Kenma raised his eyebrows but nodded. He supposed Kuroo had a point. "Besides, they might have ditched for good already, I heard some mutinous rumbling from my best friend's beloved on the matter. Akaashi's bad with, like, parties. And people. And pretty much everything, honestly, I've only seen the guy smile half a dozen times." He gave Kenma another once-over. "Hmm. Maybe I was a bit quick on the draw, saying you didn't know him. You're quiet, he'd probably like you. Although considering he married Bokuto, he might be more into people who're nothing like him at all. That whole opposites-attract sorta thing. Dunno. People are weird."

"No, you were right, I have no idea who either of them are," Kenma answered. "Anything else I should know about them?"

"Curious?" Kuroo joked.

Kenma shrugged. "I mean, I’m at their wedding. I might as well learn a bit about them."

"Fair enough. Alright, well, Bokuto's one of my favorite people, just because he's fucking wacky, you know? Never a dull moment. I swear to god that guy's gotten me in so much trouble over the years. Worth it, though. And Akaashi's constantly bitching at him, like, 'why the fuck are you parkouring in the living room,' 'quit messing with the universal remote the neighbors are super pissed,' 'please get away from that bird what the hell is wrong with you,' stuff like that. It's perpetual. But he keeps him in line. It's good that there's somebody out there trying to keep him from getting himself killed, y'know?"

"Shouldn't you be trying to do that? As his best friend and all," Kenma asked.

"Yeah, you'd think. But he's frighteningly persuasive," Kuroo said, chuckling. "Nah, only Akaashi can really say no to him. But that's love."

"How so?"

"Hey, if you meet somebody who stands by you no matter how much dumb shit you do, that means they seriously care about you. If you know you can rely on them no matter what happens, it's real. That's what love's all about," Kuroo mused.

"Sappy," Kenma commented, but he couldn't help watching Kuroo intently as he talked; something about his words was almost hypnotic. He really believed in what he was saying, that much was obvious, and the monologue was made oddly enchanting.

All at once he realized something surprising: talking to Kuroo was actually easy.

"Shut up," Kuroo said, but his voice held no malice and he was still grinning. "Tell me about your friends, then. The ones getting married next week. Maybe I'll crash this time around."

"Good luck with that. My friend's fiancé said he'd be very vigilant with security when he heard about me walking in tonight. And you don't want to mess with him, he'd probably bludgeon you to death with a disco ball," Kenma warned.

"What a way to go," Kuroo said. "Damn, are all your friends that scary?"

"I'm not really friends with the fiancé."

Kuroo's eyes widened at that. "Ooh, sounds like a great story waiting to be told."

It wasn't; Kenma pretended to contemplate for a minute. "Alright," he started slowly. "So the story's like this: my old college roommate Shouyou has a scary boyfriend. And that's it. Nothing ever happened, he's just very intimidating."

"Are you seriously so intimidated by some dude that you refuse to make friends with him when he's marrying your other friend in a week?" Kuroo asked incredulously.

"You haven't met him. Shouyou says he's nice--"

"I would hope he thinks the guy he's marrying is nice--"

"Shut up, you know what I mean. Anyway. Shouyou says he's nice but he certainly doesn't look the part. That's all. I'm not that good at making friends in the first place, anyway. Much less with people half a foot taller than me who have horrible scowls on their faces all the time."

"I'm half a foot taller than you, probably, and you get along with me just fine," Kuroo pointed out.

"Sure, but you're nicer," Kenma replied without really thinking, but once the words processed themselves in his head he felt the tips of his ears go red. He was grateful they were hidden by his hair. Hastily, he continued, "And you smile. So congratulations. You're already more approachable than Shouyou's fiancé."

"Yeah, I'm a fucking delight," Kuroo asserted, drawing out more laughter from Kenma. "What about your friend, then? Shouyou? Is he quiet like you?"

Kenma laughed harder at the mere suggestion of Shouyou being a quiet person. "Not at all. He's a real motormouth and he gets excited about everything. A little much at first, but he grows on you. Well, honestly, he doesn't grow _much,_ he's shorter than me."

"Wow. How'd he end up with Tall Dark and Scary, then?" Kuroo asked.

Kenma shrugged. "I told you. He's endearing. He can charm anybody, it's a talent of his. See, if he'd stumbled into this reception hall by accident instead of me, someone would have adopted him by now," he informed Kuroo matter-of-factly. Kuroo made an odd noise, somewhere between a scoff and a sigh. Kenma squinted at him. "What was that about?"

"Endearing? What do you mean by endearing?" Kuroo asked, breezing past Kenma’s question with one of his own.

"People just like him automatically. I don't know how he does it," Kenma explained, and there was that dumb noise again. "Quit it. You keep doing that," he complained, swatting at Kuroo's arm. "Or at least tell me why you're groaning at me."

"No reason," Kuroo shrugged. Kenma narrowed his eyes and Kuroo threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Really! Cut the evil eye already. Sorry, I can't help it, the alcohol just hit me and I'm exhausted. I think I've slept four hours in the last two days. Pro tip, bachelor parties are always a bad idea. Always."

"I think your friend's more responsible for that than the concept of bachelor parties as a whole," Kenma said, elbowing Kuroo and grinning.

"Fair point," Kuroo conceded, shoving his shoulder into Kenma's in response. "Either way it did not go well. You don't even want to know."

"What happened?"

Kuroo fixed him with a thousand-yard stare. "You don't even _want_ to know," he repeated gravely. "Goddamn miracle I'm alive. My liver will never forgive me and I still don't know how Bokuto ended up wearing three pairs of pants at once, he must have gone mugging people for their jeans. And then there was the disaster with the mangoes...what a nightmare. Akaashi was so pissed when I lugged Bokuto's drunk ass back to their place, he was standing at the door in his pajamas and threatening me with a broom. Which was pretty unfair, I mean, seriously, it wasn't even my fault and it looked way worse than it was and we were fine, so, y'know, whatever. And I got off easy, Bokuto was distracting Akaashi rambling about how happy he was about them getting married and maybe trying to bang him on the stoop? That'd explain why I got shooed away so quick, but he could have just been getting weepy about it and I don't remember one way or the other." Kuroo paused and shrugged before concluding, "Great time, though."

"All your Bokuto stories end like that. The whole thing was a bad idea and you almost died but it was fun so whatever," Kenma pointed out with a snort, eyebrows raised.

"You've barely scratched the surface of Bokuto stories, Kozume Kenma. You have no idea." Kuroo considered for a moment, mouth twisted to one side thoughtfully. "Actually, yeah, that's the typical format for a Bokuto story. I take it back. You have some idea."

"You should write a book, Kuro." He tacked on the nickname carefully, inspired by yet another of Kuroo's repetitions of his first name, but was surprised to find it sounded natural, the word passing his lips easily.

"I should," he replied, but Kenma had caught the little start Kuroo made at the mention of the nickname, could have sworn Kuroo's smile grew not wider, but softer, almost shy, and now Kenma's stomach was doing these odd backflips and his face felt hot and he didn't quite know what to do. He stared at his lap intently, quiet as he waited for his voice to start working properly again. He didn't trust it at the moment.

A silence lulled between them; they watched the party thin out slowly, and Kenma could see the door well enough now, but wasn't in a rush to leave anymore. In fact, he'd barely noticed the time passing at all. It was easier to tolerate this place now that the music was more subdued and ambient. And now that he actually had someone to talk to.

"Kuro. Look, that guy's doing the macarena without any music," Kenma said finally, nudging his arm and pointing.

"Holy shit, that's Akaashi's dad!" Kuroo laughed, delighted. "This wedding's amazing." He turned to Kenma, still beaming. "Wanna dance?" he asked.

"I'm not doing the macarena with you, no."

Kuroo clicked his tongue impatiently. "Nobody said anything about the macarena. No, I meant for real dancing. You know. With steps and shit. I learned how to waltz in gym class one time, I swear to god."

Kenma chuckled at the thought but shook his head. "I can't dance," he said.

"I'll show you! Come on, they put on the slow music and nobody gives a fuck, anyway, they're too drunk to remember if you step on my feet or whatever." He was undeterred and Kenma watched him move out of the corner of his eye, and now that he wasn't slouching the difference in height between them was far more profound.

"You'll look dumb dancing with someone so short," Kenma insisted, but that wasn't the problem, not really; he was being willfully obtuse about this because a blush was creeping up his cheeks and the backflipping had kicked off again. How close did you have to stand to waltz with somebody? He didn't know for sure. Definitely too close, though, especially if you'd just met that somebody a couple hours ago. Yet he couldn't deny the growing impulse to agree, to get up and let himself be whisked around the dance floor at a strangers' wedding by another stranger - but no, that wasn't right. Kuroo didn't feel like a stranger anymore.

It was all very complicated.

Kuroo waved his hand as if brushing off the idea. "I'll live. Come on, it'll be fun."

Kenma fidgeted and then glanced up at Kuroo furtively; he was holding one hand out and he looked so excited at the prospect, still tipsy and swaying a bit where he stood.

It was kind of cute.

"Just for a little while," Kenma answered carefully. "I really can't stay that much--"

But Kuroo was already tugging at his hands, pulling him out of his seat and grinning. Kenma could only follow along in his wake. "Awesome! Okay, bear with me, it's been ages since I did this shit..." He frowned at their feet, fingers loosely laced together in the space between them. "It's like. Okay. You step in a box."

"A box," Kenma repeated, dubious.

"It makes sense!" Kuroo insisted. "Watch. Do the opposite of me, alright? When I step back, you step forward. Get it?"

"No."

"Try it, it'll make sense when you try it." He sounded so earnest now that it was impossible to not give it a shot. Jaw set, Kenma inverted Kuroo's footsteps until they'd established the so-called waltzing box. Huh. It really was a box after all, four steps backwards and forwards and to the sides. "See? I told you," Kuroo said smugly when Kenma raised his gaze.

"Right. 'Just do the box' is great advice. You have no clue what you're doing, do you?" Kenma teased, the tension lifting from his limbs as he memorized the right motions. It became second nature, but now he was starting to think about how warm Kuroo's fingers were and he wasn't sure he was supposed to be focusing on that so much.

"Bullshit! Look, we _are_ doing the box and it's easy as hell." He tilted his head to one side, watching Kenma imitate him for a long moment, eyes bright even in the paltry light. "You sure you're not a trained ballroom dancer? Because you're a natural at this."

"Don't try and flatter me, it won't work."

"Won't it? I got you dancing with me, after all."

"Shut up."

Kuroo's response was to pull one of his hands back and guide Kenma into a spin before he could blink, laughing softly all the while. When Kenma was facing the right way again, he found himself reaching for Kuroo's hand without realizing it, or, really, even directly authorizing it. They seemed closer now, fingers still barely laced together and box steps repeating endlessly as they drifted through the ever-smaller crowd. Kenma was starting to feel a little dizzy, although he couldn't tell if it was from waltzing or just watching Kuroo's face, and he rooted his eyes to their feet instead, pretending he needed to look where he was stepping.

"You know, you're pretty endearing yourself," Kuroo said, sounding almost thoughtful.

Kenma glanced up sharply. He must have heard wrong. "What?" he questioned, watching Kuroo critically.

Kuroo shrugged but, in Kenma's opinion, he looked a little flushed. Probably just from moving, but it was worth mentioning. "Earlier you were telling me about your friend. How he's a real charmer and you don't know how he does it, remember?" Kenma nodded cautiously and Kuroo shrugged again, like it was a nervous tic. "Well, I find you endearing too."

It was like his lungs had forgotten how to breathe. "Don't tease," Kenma replied dismissively as he could; his cheeks had to be flooded with color now, because somehow the idea that Kuroo was being serious about this was crushing him with nervous energy.

"I'm not! I'm really not." His head was off-kilter again, eyes focused on Kenma as though he was the only person in the room. Kenma huffed impatiently and stared away, still box-stepping. "It's funny how you assume you're not just as charming as anybody else," Kuroo went on.

"I'm not," Kenma mumbled - how could he be when dumb, probably-insincere compliments like that got him so worked up? It was impossible. Utterly impossible. Kuroo was messing with him, he had to be.

"You are," Kuroo said plainly, like it was a point of fact. "You've charmed me, at least."

There was fluttering rising from Kenma's stomach to his throat and when he glanced up again he forgot how to do anything at all except stare and, no, Kuroo wasn't teasing, not with such a genuine smile, he couldn't be--

All at once he stumbled, tripping over his feet, and it shook him out of his thoughts like a slap to the face. They froze where they stood, stock-still in the middle of the dance floor with a soft melody fading out behind them.

"I'm fine," he said automatically when Kuroo opened his mouth. "But. I should leave. It's late." Cautiously, he disentangled their fingers, shoving his hands in his pockets instead. "Um. Thanks for not kicking me out, I guess," he mumbled. He felt like he'd lost track of reality the last few hours; he'd almost entirely forgotten how he'd gotten here and why and suddenly felt stupid about the whole thing again, embarrassment stinging at him as it had when he'd first realized his mistake. This was all some dumb mistake and he didn't know why he hadn't left sooner.

With that, he'd exhausted his supply of words and abruptly turned heel, walking fast out the door past the lingering stragglers. He chanced one last glance back; Kuroo hadn't moved, simply watching him go with the oddest look on his face. Hesitantly, Kenma waved goodbye, a tiny flutter of fingers, and then hurried out the door into the cool night air.

It was late, much too late all things considered, and Kenma fumbled with his keys as he got in the car. For some reason his hands wouldn't stop shaking, and when he finally reached home he was so weighed down by exhaustion he could only manage to yank off his tie and dress pants before collapsing into bed in his cardigan and boxers, sighing into his pillow. It felt like he'd been gone days instead of hours.

It'd been weirdly nice, though. Not at first, but eventually. And Kuroo had been nice. No, better than nice. Sweet, actually. That was a better word for his easy grin and constant murmuring words and the way he laughed as if everything Kenma said was funny. Kenma couldn't recall the last time he'd gotten along with someone new this well right off the bat, somehow bantering back and forth without overthinking as he usually did. So it was nice. Better than expected, certainly. It was over now, but it had been nice while it lasted.

Kenma curled up under the blankets with his brow furrowed, feeling weirdly hollow, like he'd forgotten something very important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been working on this for so long oh my god. the other two tagged ships will make more prominent appearances in the next chapters!! in this one they only get brief cameos and mentions, but i wouldn't have tagged them if they didn't get more than that.


	2. Missed Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'll get by with some help from your friends. "Help," of course, in its true meaning of "questionable advice complemented by insults."

The overblown drama on TV was finally getting to the good part: a young couple stood in front of a brilliant sunset, hands clasped together with the wind blowing the guy's tie and the girl's hair just so, and then, at long last, they murmured their love confession. The sun hit the horizon in a burst of lens flare, the music swelled, the couple started swapping spit, and Kuroo groaned at the spectacle of it all. "Shut up already," he grumbled, mashing the button on the remote so hard it skipped three channels instead of one.

There was _another_ sappy drama on this channel too. What the hell? Kuroo shoved his face in the couch cushion, ignoring the flickering screen and the poetic declarations of love spewing from the speakers. They made it seem easy. He knew better. It was bullshit, and more to the point, it just wasn't fair. It wasn't like he'd asked to meet some elusive wedding crasher with flashing amber eyes and little tiny smiles that felt like gifts, somehow, and fingers that twined around his own in a weirdly perfect way.

Kozume Kenma. God, even his _name_ was cute somehow.

It was Thursday, and Kuroo was kind of starting to think that his ridiculous infatuation with a complete stranger was getting a bit out of hand.

This was stupid. It was all stupid. They'd only met by chance - no, even worse, by complete mistake, what with Kenma being an accidental wedding crasher and all. Most likely, they'd never cross paths again. Kuroo knew that, and yet every time he reminded himself of the fact, it felt like he was suffocating. Or maybe that was because his face was still wedged in a cushion. Regardless, it was awful. It was all he'd been thinking about since the wedding last Saturday.

It had to mean something, then, didn't it? If he couldn't get the memory of Kenma's face out of his head, it had to be significant somehow. But Kuroo had no options here; he couldn't even call the guy, he'd been too starry-eyed to be normal and ask for Kenma's number. So here he was, stuck moping in his apartment all night watching soap operas. The girl on screen now was crying hysterically. Kuroo had no idea why she was upset, but he could definitely empathize.

This had to be what it felt like to have your heart stolen; Kenma had taken it with him when he'd walked out of the reception hall. Kuroo winced at that. Oh god, how nauseating, he was pretty sure he'd taken that dialogue straight from one of the dramas. What was _wrong_ with him?

His phone started buzzing on the coffee table and Kuroo groped around for it without bothering to sit up. His arm knocked over an empty glass and the phone vibrated right off the table to the floor. "Oh, come the fuck on," Kuroo muttered, sliding halfway off the couch and finally shoving the phone up to his ear. "Yeah?" Proper greetings be damned, he was busy being lovesick over here.

"Ohoho?" crackled over the line; it was Bokuto, because seriously, who else would be answering the phone like that? It was their preferred greeting and Kuroo actually smiled despite himself. It was a pretty dumb thing to be comforted by, but at least it was something.

"Oho," he answered gloomily; while they'd been known to go back and forth laughing like supervillains at each other for upwards of fifteen minutes, Kuroo's heart just wasn't in it tonight.

"Woah, what's the matter with you? Is everything alright?" Bokuto asked, immediately realizing something was off.

"No, I'm brooding," Kuroo answered, heaving himself back on the couch with an enormous sigh.

Bokuto laughed. "You already miss me that much? Wow, I've only been honeymooning a couple days," he teased.

"This isn't about you, bro," Kuroo snorted. "Say hey to Akaashi for me, by the way."

"Hey, babe! Kuroo says hi!" Bokuto called immediately, and Kuroo felt his mood being dragged up bit by bit. See, this was why they were friends; Bokuto always knew what to say. "What? No, hold on, I'm gonna put him on speaker. Kuroo, I'm putting you on speaker, Keiji's trying to tell you--"

"Kuroo, you know I'm going to kick your ass, right." Akaashi Keiji's exasperated voice came through the speaker loud and clear.

Kuroo rolled his eyes. "Is he still mad about the bachelor party or something?" he asked dismissively.

"Uh, a little bit. But you dodged the broom okay, right? He's not gonna do anything, not really," Bokuto replied, unconcerned.

"How many bars did you take him to, Kuroo?" Akaashi interrupted.

"Five? I think?" Kuroo answered, hearing Akaashi sigh in response. "Come on, nothing bad even happened! I got him home alright, didn't I?"

"I found a half-empty wine bottle in his bag," Akaashi recounted. "And a collection of mangoes I doubt he paid for."

"We didn't have any wine," Kuroo replied, brow furrowed, avoiding the mango discussion for the moment; that story sounded much better in person.

"Yeah we did!" Bokuto chimed in. "We did a wine tasting, I think! I totally remember that."

"What? No we didn't. There's no wine tasting places downtown. Where the hell did _you_ go, Bokuto?" Kuroo laughed.

"Uh."

"I rest my case," Akaashi concluded.

"Whatever, it's not important. Why so glum, chum?" Bokuto inquired. "I'm dying to know what you're brooding about." Kuroo groaned into the speaker. "Wow, that bad?"

"Yeah. Well, no, I guess not? It wasn't necessarily a bad thing. But it kind of was. I don't know," Kuroo grumbled. "It's all confusing right now."

"Ugh, the suspense! It's killing me! Just spit it out already!" Bokuto complained.

Kuroo sighed again but it sounded wistful this time, because his head was full of the wedding and box steps and Kenma and for a moment he was back there, meeting Kenma's eyes and feeling the strangest warmth in the pit of his stomach. "I met someone at your wedding," he said, laughing sheepishly. "Sorry. When I say it out loud it sounds like a romcom, but..."

"You _what_?" Bokuto was chuckling and Kuroo scowled at the phone.

"No, seriously! It was kind of romantic, okay, don't laugh--"

"Kuroo, you dumb shit, both my gay cousins are girls, what are you talking about?"

Kuroo snorted at that. "No, come on, just listen--"

Bokuto plowed right through his attempt to interject. "Really, I'm serious! Wait, maybe Keiji has gay cousins..."

"I _am_ the gay cousin," Akaashi reminded him.

"Oh, right."

"Bokuto, shut up, let me explain," Kuroo laughed. "No, it wasn't one of your cousins, that'd be fucking weird. In fact, you don't know the guy at all."

"Why was he at my wedding, then?" Bokuto asked.

"It was pretty funny, actually. He crashed by mistake. Said his friends have a reception there next week." There was a pause, and then Bokuto's laughter blared through the speaker. Kuroo grinned; he knew Bokuto would appreciate the story.

"Tell me everything. Start at the beginning," Bokuto said eagerly.

"Alright, well, I was at the reception and I spotted some guy at the bar, except I didn't recognize him."

"Suspicious."

"Very. So I figured he was crashing, and I'm like, hey, who the hell's crashing my best friend's wedding? But it turned out he was crashing by mistake, so that's fine, he wasn't up to anything nefarious or whatever, and...and, well, it also turned out he was really funny and I liked talking to him and I can't stop thinking about him, god, Bokuto, he was fucking _adorable_ , what do I do?!" The words exploded out of Kuroo's mouth in a frantic burst and he had to stop to catch his breath. "That's what happened."

"Holy shit. You've got it bad, Kuroo."

"I know."

"Do you think he was into you?"

"I don't...I don't know. It's hard to read him," Kuroo mumbled. "We danced a bit before he left. Is that a good sign?"

"Are you for real?"

"Entirely for real."

"Like, what, party dancing, or--?"

"No, y'know..." Kuroo twisted his lips and sighed. "We waltzed."

"You _waltzed_ ," Bokuto repeated, sounding dumbfounded. "Kuroo, you don't even know how to waltz."

"I do so! I learned in high school, shut up!"

"People don't waltz outside of fairy tales, you nerd," Bokuto snickered. "Dude, you're basically living through Cinderella right now. Next you'll tell me this guy left one of his shoes on the steps outside."

"Stop! This is really serious!"

The more indignant Kuroo got, the more amused Bokuto seemed to be. "I'm sorry! I just can't believe you fell head-over-heels for some random guy and did, like, ballroom dancing with him. You're such a hopeless romantic, bro, seriously. Don't sweat it, though. Just call him and get it over with."

"I can't."

"Don't be a wimp!"

"I'm not being a wimp, I didn't get his number before he left," Kuroo said miserably. "So now I'm doomed to daydream about him for the rest of my natural life. It's awful."

"That's a rookie mistake, Kuroo."

"I know, alright? My _life_ is a mistake, I accept it, I'm sorry. I was preoccupied swooning," he grumbled.

Bokuto sounded utterly delighted when he shrieked out, " _Really_?!"

"Yes, really! He had such pretty eyes, oh my god, it wasn't okay."

"Tell me you at least tried to flirt with him!" Bokuto implored.

Kuroo considered that a minute. "Uh. I told him he was endearing," he said slowly.

"Lame!"

"And charming. I said that too."

"Super lame. I bet you did the dumb cherry stem thing too, just to be a show-off," Bokuto scoffed.

Kuroo felt his expression darkening into a sulk again. "The cherry stem thing's not dumb," he retorted sullenly.

"Did you _actually_...?! Jesus, Kuroo, you're hopeless. I'm disappointed in you."

"Whatever! Tell me what to do. I think I’m losing it, okay, I've been watching soap operas all day and I'm actually starting to understand what's going on in them. I might be too far gone already."

Bokuto was quiet a minute, but then gasped sharply. "Kuroo! Didn't your crush say his friends were going to have their reception at that venue next week?" he asked excitedly.

"Uh. Yeah. So what?" Kuroo asked, running a hand through his hair and, no doubt, only mussing it further.

"Duh! Go crash the reception and see your mystery man! Simple as that," Bokuto replied; Kuroo could practically see the image of Bokuto's manic grin looming in his head. It was the look that directly preceded half of the disasters they got themselves into.

"What? No! I'm not crashing his friends' wedding!" Kuroo burst out. "That'd be so stupid--"

"Would it? Or would it actually be genius?" Bokuto asked, voice purposefully hushed to sound more dramatic.

"That's not...that doesn't even make sense, Bokuto, what the hell--"

"Kuroo. Kuroo. _Dude_." Bokuto steamrolled over all of Kuroo's attempted arguments, and Kuroo finally admitted defeat and fell silent. "Listen to me. You are literally living a romcom right now, my friend. You gotta play it like one, obviously! And in the movies, the two lovers totally get reunited someplace and confess to each other. You know! You've been watching soap operas all day, don't tell me that's not how it works."

"I'm..." Kuroo stammered. Well, okay, now that Bokuto said it like that, it kind of almost made sense. "But..."

"But what?"

Kuroo huffed and stared at the ceiling. "What if he doesn't want to see me again?" he asked, voice low.

"Oh my god, that is the saddest thing I've ever heard you say, like. Literally. Ever. But if I know my romcoms, I bet your crush has been thinking about you as much as you've been thinking about him," Bokuto said confidently; Kuroo scoffed and Bokuto started shushing him. "Either way, you won't know unless you try."

"See, considering 'trying' translates to 'breaking into a wedding' I think I have a pretty good reason to hesitate," Kuroo grumbled.

"What's the worst that could happen? Come on."

"Uh, I get kicked out of a wedding?"

"Yeah, exactly! At worst, your crush thinks you're a weirdo and you get the stink-eye from some strangers. Who cares? At least then you'll know for sure whether or not the guy likes you back. It's better than moping, isn't it?"

"I dunno, I'm kind of getting the hang of this moping thing. I might be genuinely talented at it, Bokuto," Kuroo replied, mock-seriously.

Bokuto laughed uproariously. "Now you sound like you!" he cheered. "Go on, do it. When's the other reception?"

"Saturday. A week after yours."

"See, you even know when it is! Don't tell me you haven't been thinking about doing it. Not even a little bit?"

Kuroo absolutely had been mulling it over. "Um. No. Definitely not. It didn't occur to me," he lied.

"Knew it! You were totally gonna do it anyway. Wow. You're in way too deep, Kuroo."

"I am," Kuroo sighed, throwing an arm over his face.

"Aw, hey, come on, bro. Don't be so down," Bokuto chided him. "Just turn up the charm and win him over. Easy as pie." Kuroo was silent, because there was no way it could be that simple. "I'm serious!" Bokuto went on. "Hey, come on. Kuroo. You listening? How hard could it be to woo your mystery man? I won the love of _my_ life over, didn't I?"

"How _did_ you win Akaashi over?" Kuroo wondered aloud.

"Good old-fashioned romance," Bokuto informed him seriously.

"Witchcraft," Akaashi called with a scoff.

"Nah, you love me," Bokuto said fondly. "Anyway, the point is, if I can do it, so can you, you huge weenie. And you know what's definitely not romantic? Sulking around your apartment all day. Mystery crush won't be impressed by that."

"Oi, Kuroo. Quit being a baby and go to the reception," Akaashi added.

Kuroo's eyebrows shot up. "Woah, woah, hold on. Are you actually signing on to one of Bokuto's plans right now?" he asked. "Like, in real life? Am I dreaming? Did I fall into a parallel universe somewhere?"

"You heard me. For once he knows what he's talking about," Akaashi affirmed. "Do it."

"What do you mean, _for once?_ " Bokuto demanded to know.

"I..." He started to offer another counter-argument, but it was getting harder and harder to push the thought from his head. All at once his mind flooded with the melody of Kenma's voice, the way he fiddled with the ends of his sleeves, the bubbly soft feeling that Kuroo had never felt for anyone else before. If there was anyone worth taking a chance like this for, it was him. Kuroo took a deep breath. "I'm gonna do it."

"You’re gonna what?" Bokuto asked.

"I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna crash that wedding," Kuroo asserted again, louder and more confident this time, feeling a grin grow on his face.

Bokuto cheered in his ear. "That's the spirit! Make sure you dress nice!"

"And brush your hair," Akaashi suggested.

"Hey--!" Kuroo started, offended and absent-mindedly flattening his hair as he spoke.

"Good luck on Saturday, loverboy!" Bokuto called, voice almost sing-song, and promptly hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love writing bokuto and kuroo conversations!! OvO  
> this chapter's v short compared to 1 and 3 - 2.5k versus 7k apiece for 1 and 3, roughly. but hopefully i'll get through editing 3 and post it later this week to wrap this up.  
> thank you all so much for your kind comments and kudos, it means a lot to me and you're all way too nice like wow;;


	3. Missed You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This all feels a little too familiar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to everyone who uploads kuroken mixes on 8tracks - thank you for providing background music for my feverish editing.  
> to the person who bookmarked this fic and tagged it with the comment, "GO GET HIM KUROO" - you made my fucking day. i vibe w/ you.

"...and I swear to...to always..."

"Oh my god, are you _crying_?!"

"No! Shut up, let me finish! I swear to--"

"You _are_ crying."

"Well, now you're crying!"

"I can't help it, you made me!"

"I did _not_! Just...just give me your hand, okay, I have to put the ring on and...Shouyou, you're crying on my hands, what the hell--"

"Finish your vows, stupid!"

"I'm trying, dumbass! I swear to always stand by your side and...and...cherish you, and take care of you, and...um...shit, let you hog the blankets, I guess, I forget, okay?"

"Did you just  _swear_ in your  _wedding vows_? You're the least romantic person ever born, Tobio, how is this even possi--"

"Wait, I remember the last part now, shut up a minute! And I love you, Shouyou, today and all days. There. Oh my god, why are you still crying?!"

"Why are _you_ still crying?"

"I'm just happy, okay!"

With that, Shouyou seized the lapels of Kageyama's suitjacket and tugged him into a long, deep kiss, to the cheers, and scattered wolf-whistles, of the congregation.

Granted, Kenma hadn't been to many weddings, but he supposed crying at such an emotional moment in your life wasn't so unusual. However, he was also pretty sure that the couple wasn't supposed to yell at each other about it. This was less like yelling and more like incoherent blubbering, but even so.

He smiled fondly and shook his head. Well, if there was one couple who'd do it, it'd be Shouyou and Kageyama.

Kenma had actually arrived to the ceremony early this time around, and honestly, he was glad he hadn't missed this spectacle. When they broke apart, Shouyou was beaming so hard it almost looked like it hurt and started waving out to the crowd, while Kageyama just stared at him like he was the most beautiful thing in the world, his lapels lopsided now and their hands clasped tight.

Maybe Kenma should have gone to more weddings. They were kind of nice, he decided.

"Kind of" was the operative word here, though, because something about it was making Kenma's heart throb unpleasantly against his ribs, drumming harder than it had any right to.

His mood deflated in earnest when the party kicked off at the reception hall, because it was unexpectedly weird to be there again. It felt like ages since he'd wandered in by mistake, despite the fact that it'd only been last week. But it wasn't as if he was remembering how embarrassed he'd been, no, the whole thing only made him sad now. He couldn't help it; thinking about the other wedding forced such an odd weight on his shoulders, like gravity was tugging him closer to the ground. He skirted around the edge of the dance floor and a pang echoed in his chest.

He'd thought about Kuroo a couple times since last Saturday. Or a bunch of times. Or maybe all the time. Maybe. His stomach squirmed as he acknowledged that, because no, it was dumb, why was he so wrapped up by a random person he'd happened to meet at a wedding he wasn't supposed to be at one time? It wasn't like he was in love with the guy or anything. It wasn't like that at all.

Or at least that's what he'd told himself: that people just didn't fall in love all at once, that trading jokes and nicknames wasn't a big deal, that having somebody teach you to dance wasn't romantic. Sure, it was a shame to make and lose a friend so quickly, but that was definitely the end of it.

Besides, Kenma reasoned, he'd probably long since fallen off of Kuroo's radar. He was only an interesting stranger at a wedding, after all, nothing special.

He weaved through the crowd to Shouyou, surprisingly not so nervous about potentially having to talk to Kageyama in doing so. Somehow seeing him weeping over his wedding vows made him a little less intimidating.

"Kenma! Wow, you actually made it on time," Shouyou laughed.

Kenma rolled his eyes. "Of course. I couldn't miss the two of you flooding the ceremony," he replied.

"Hey, Tobio started it!" Shouyou said defensively, elbowing Kageyama as he spoke.

"I absolutely did not. Your eyes were all glassy the whole time," Kageyama retorted with a huff.

"He's a sap," Shouyou stage-whispered conspiratorially.

"I am not!"

"A _huuuuuge_ sap." Kageyama's face was burning red now and Shouyou looked absolutely delighted by it, grinning wide. "But that's why I love him! Well, that's not the only reason, but you get the idea," he went on adoringly, swinging their clasped hands back and forth. Kageyama looked like he was about to explode, but when he glanced down at Shouyou, Kenma watched his expression completely melt into the tiniest little fond smile. It was kind of amazing to witness, like seeing a kitten open its eyes for the first time.

"You're the sap," he grumbled, but his tone wasn't rough as usual and he leaned over to give Shouyou a peck on the cheek.

"Uh-huh. Yeah. Totally," Shouyou teased, giggling and leaning in to the kiss without even looking, like he could simply sense Kageyama was there. After a second he refocused his attention on Kenma, as if he'd only just remembered they'd been having a conversation. "So yeah. His fault." Abruptly, he glanced across the room and somehow his expression became even more delighted. "What are your brothers and sisters doing?" he asked Kageyama with a laugh.

Kageyama's head whipped around at light speed and the furious scowl was back on his face at full force. "What the fuck! No, you fucking assholes, no human pyramids at my wedding! Mom, do something!" he shouted, storming off in the direction of five dark-haired giggling siblings.

"Tobio, of course I'm doing something, I'm spotting!" his mother called back.

" _That's not helping_!"

Shouyou was doubled over laughing. Kenma observed the scene silently, watching Kageyama shake his fist at the whole bunch of them while one of his sisters mimicked his actions behind his back. He supposed his assumption last week that people related to Kageyama couldn't smile had been horribly wrong. "Are those really all his siblings?" he asked Shouyou in awe.

"Yup! He's the baby of the family, it's so funny. They're really loud like he is, but he definitely got the worst attitude out of all of them," Shouyou explained, wiping a tear from his face. "Oh man. They're a riot, I went to their family Christmas party last year and it was such a mess, I loved it." He turned to Kenma, apparently smiling permanently now. "I'm so glad you made it, though! Really! Everyone from our old volleyball team showed up, too, and Tobio's family, and Natsu's around somewhere, I lost track of her, but the point is, it's great to see everyone!"

Kenma smiled back. "The vows were actually kind of sweet," he said. "You know. It showed how much you two love each other. In your own weird way, of course."

Shouyou was practically glowing. "That's the idea!" he laughed.

There was a question kicking around Kenma's brain, one that was a little too familiar lately, one he'd never really worried about before, and he supposed there were worse people he could ask. At least Shouyou probably had some sort of answer. Maybe not a good one, but it'd be something. He _was_ married now, after all.

Carefully, Kenma parsed out, "Um...Shouyou? How can you tell if you're in love?"

Shouyou's brow furrowed quizzically. "Huh?"

"I mean...how did you know you were in love with Kageyama? What made you...you know...realize it, I guess," he attempted again. It was hard to ask about this without directly saying 'I think I'm a tragic victim of love at first sight, please prove me wrong.'

To his surprise, Shouyou's expression cleared. "Oh! That's easy, Kenma," he said with a laugh. "It was sort of like. Hmm. Every time I was around him, my heart just went like...like _gwah_ , you know?"

"Gwah?" Kenma repeated slowly, head tilted in confusion.

Shouyou exhaled impatiently. "No, no! With more feeling! Like _gwah_!" He flung his arms around wildly as he emphasized the nonsense word; Kenma dodged out of the way of his flailing hands with a snort.

"I don't get it," he admitted, twisting his lips.

"It's hard to describe, I don't know!" He considered a minute, one finger on his chin. "I guess it started back in school, when we played volleyball together. We were partners and we really relied on each other! So even now, I trust him with my life. I know he'll always be there to help me be my best, and it's the greatest feeling in the world."

"My mistake, I forgot you have to play volleyball to fall in love," Kenma deadpanned.

"No, there were definitely more ways to tell than that!” Shouyou admonished with a snort. “My heartbeat got faster, I blushed when he looked at me, I'd daydream about all the times I accidentally touched his hand or saw him smile a little teensy-tiny bit...he was all I could think about, basically." He shrugged as his ramble drew to a close. "Nobody else ever made me feel that way. Not even close. So that's how I knew."

Kenma's brain decided, for whatever stupid reason, that now was a good time to replay the memory of Kuroo's soft laughter as he spun Kenma around when they danced, and it made his cheeks burn. _Oh no._

His fingers twisted against his sleeves."Sounds pretty vague to me," he mumbled, almost defensive.

"When you know, you know," Shouyou replied seriously. "Trust me, Kenma, the _gwah_ is a dead giveaway."

"You know that's not a real thing, right? That's not even an actual word."

Shouyou scoffed. "Okay, well, it's different for everybody! But I'm telling you, you'll know when it happens. The trick is to listen to your _gwah_ , lots of people ignore it," he advised, and, what the hell, he actually sounded like he knew what he was talking about. It was hitting a little too close to home, leaving a weird jittery feeling almost like nausea burning in Kenma’s stomach.

He wasn't just ignoring things. He was simply being reasonable about it. Logically, Kenma definitely wouldn't have fallen for some random guy out of the blue. Obviously, it didn't mean anything. And of course, he was overthinking this and it was only stressing him out and he had to quit it. That was all.

Funny, though; the more they talked about this, the more reasons Kenma had to find to try and prove Shouyou wrong.

"I think they're playing keep-away with Kageyama's boutineer over there," Kenma said, looking to the other side of the room. "He might need you to rescue him. Just saying."

"What! No way, I paid for that!" Shouyou burst out indignantly, and dashed off to play knight-in-shining-armor.

It'd been a willful distraction but Kenma was glad for it; he slunk off through the crowd and sat at one of the deserted tables, trying not to watch couples box-stepping on the dance floor. Seeing them made his limbs feel like lead.

He leaned with his elbow on the table and couldn't keep the frown off his face, couldn't purge all these morose, moping thoughts from his head. Too much overthinking, he reminded himself. Nothing besides that. Absolutely nothing.

He was definitely not thinking about Kuroo's smile, the real one that didn't exist merely for mocking, or how his wild mess of hair caught the terrible lighting so well, or the cherry stem he'd tied with his tongue and proudly showed off, almost as if he was maybe possibly flirting by doing so. But that'd be dumb. Kuroo didn't _like him_ or anything. No. Kenma didn't want him to anyway. Nope. Nothing even close to that. Okay, now it was starting to sound like denial, and Shouyou said love felt like nothing else and Kenma hadn't ever felt so conflicted, so he supposed it counted, but what was the point when he was never going to see the guy again?

There were so many people whirling around the reception hall, and Shouyou was keeping Kageyama's siblings from taunting him and holding his hand tight, and Kenma usually didn't mind being alone; in fact, most of the time he preferred it, but right now he felt so inexplicably lonely that he couldn't stand it.

Someone coughed behind him, but the last thing he wanted right now was to get dragged into a conversation with some other stranger at a wedding and replay last week's disaster all over again. He stared forward resolutely, eyes locked on the tablecloth.

"Um. Hey, Kenma."

He glanced up in one sharp motion, because he recognized that voice, it was the one that'd been echoing in his head for days, but no, this couldn't be right, there was no way Kuroo was here. He was hearing things. He had to be.

Slowly, he turned in his seat, barely noticing how he was holding his breath. Standing there, like some reception hall apparition, was Kuroo, rolled-up dress shirt sleeves and awful bedhead and all. Kenma blinked and Kuroo laughed hesitantly. "Fancy meeting you here," he said, grinning and running a hand through his hair as he spoke.

Kenma's heart was hammering loud against his ribs. "Kuro?" he asked quizzically, because really, this didn't make sense, it was like something out of a terrible movie. "What are you doing here?"

Kuroo shrugged. "I told you I was thinking about crashing," he replied lightly, like it was no big deal, but his eyes kept darting between Kenma's face and the floor, almost like he was nervous. He probably was, Kenma realized with a jolt. And it was cute. God, it was horribly cute.

All at once Kenma understood what Shouyou had been babbling about. Oh. _Gwah_. Honestly, that was the best word for whatever incredible acrobatic feats his heart was performing right now.

"Who the hell are you?" Kenma jolted out of his stupor and tore his eyes away from Kuroo to see Kageyama glaring suspiciously at them with Shouyou at his side, head tilted and brow furrowed. Well, that was fast.

"Oh! Uh, I'm--" Kuroo started haltingly, looking alarmed; it wasn't like Kageyama was taller than him or anything, but the look on his face could curdle milk.

"He's with me," Kenma interrupted, and Kuroo looked almost as surprised as Shouyou and Kageyama did.

"I thought you said he wasn't bringing anyone," Kageyama asked, the question directed at Shouyou instead of Kenma himself.

"Don't look at me! He said he wasn't last time I asked," Shouyou replied.

"Sorry. Last minute plan," Kenma said, nodding as if he'd planned any of this at all. "Shouyou, Kageyama, this is Kuroo. Kuroo, the happy couple." Kuroo was glancing sidelong at him every five seconds, apparently at a loss for words, and Kenma raised his eyebrows and tilted his head toward them until Kuroo finally got the message. He cleared his throat, hands jammed into his pockets.

"Congratulations," Kuroo offered weakly. He looked like he'd seen a ghost or something, but considering he was trying to carry a conversation with Kageyama, Kenma could empathize.

"Thank you," Kageyama said stiffly, obviously still wary, but Shouyou nudged his shoulder and, again, Kenma watched Kageyama gradually relax. Wow, okay, Shouyou had to be a wizard or something, how else did he keep doing that?

"You should have told me you were bringing somebody! I thought you were gonna be anti-social all night," Shouyou said, grinning through his reprimands.

"When have I ever been anti-social?" Kenma asked dryly, and Kuroo snorted next to him. Kenma leaned over and elbowed him in the ribs.

"Try every day of your life," Shouyou replied, laughing. "Well, except today, I guess." He turned to Kuroo and beamed, eyes glittering. "Hi! I'm Hinata Shouyou and _this_..." He leaned into Kageyama's shoulder and his smile grew even more, it was practically blinding. He finished proudly, "...is my husband, Kageyama Tobio. We're really happy to have you here!"

"We already got introduced, you don't have to do it again," Kageyama grumbled, a very distinct blush coloring his cheeks.

"Do so!" Shouyou insisted.

"You just like announcing we're married," Kageyama scoffed. "Seriously, we're at our own wedding right now, everyone here knows we're married."

"The novelty of it hasn't worn off yet! Don't be stupid, stupid!" Shouyou replied indignantly, and then redirected his attention to Kenma and Kuroo, rolling his eyes as he spoke. "Sorry about bugging you. Bakageyama over here was all uppity about security or whatever--" Kuroo snorted at that and Kageyama turned a downright homicidal glare on him, which shut him up in an instant; the terrified look in his eyes was just too funny and Kenma started laughing behind his hands.

"I wasn't _uppity_ , oh my god--" Kageyama started.

"Like, I don't get it, you're already tall, I don't know why you have to get even higher with your bad attitude," Shouyou teased, gently tugging his arm and leading him away, smiling wide at Kenma as he did so. As if they were in on a secret or something. It was weird, because Kenma didn't have any idea what the look was about.

"Don't be jealous, shrimp," Kageyama retorted as Shouyou mouthed "good luck" at Kenma with a long, significant glance at Kuroo, paired with an embarrassingly-obvious wink. Kenma felt his face burning. Maybe he hadn't been as subtle with the romance questions as he could have been. Well, it wasn't like he'd been expecting Kuroo to walk in, because, again, why the hell would he, this wasn't some tacky romcom.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Kuroo settling in the chair next to him and letting out a long breath. "So that's Tall Dark and Scary, huh? Jesus. Thought he was gonna disintegrate me with his eyes or something," he commented, eyebrows raised.

"I warned you," Kenma reminded him. "I said he'd try and kill you, but you decided to crash anyway."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But hey, your friend manages to handle him pretty well."

"I told you about that too, didn't I?"

"Naturally. I'm not the best at listening, it's one of my few flaws," Kuroo replied, grinning. "Nice save, by the way. I owe you."

Kenma shrugged. "I figure we're even. You didn't boot me out last week, I'm only returning the favor."

"Nothing last week was as scary as that guy's face, okay. I owe you," Kuroo repeated.

"Fine. Then answer my question from before. What are you doing here?" Kenma asked.

An odd look flashed across Kuroo's face, somehow reminiscent of his talking-to-Kageyama expression. "Well, I didn't have any other plans tonight, so I figured it'd be fun," Kuroo replied, pointedly staring at the ceiling.

"Uh-huh. Wedding crashing is so fun. Especially when the groom almost rips you in half."

"Yeah, that adds to the excitement, see? Nothing gets your heart pounding like close brushes with death."

"You're lying. And you're bad at it," Kenma decided shortly. "Really this time."

"I...wanted to see if they kept the lights from last week," Kuroo tried again, his tone making it obvious he was fishing for excuses.

"They did. They're still ugly," Kenma replied, brow furrowed and stare critical.

"Yeah, seriously, it's like the things got salvaged from a nightclub fire twenty years ago," Kuroo scoffed.

"You're not here for lights," Kenma said dismissively.

Kuroo lowered his gaze and sighed, finally meeting Kenma's eyes. "I wanted to see you," he answered, and while Kenma's heart had been somersaulting before, now it felt like it'd soared right out of his chest.

"Oh," was all he could say this time, fingers twisting together in his lap as he picked at his nails.

Kuroo's eyes had darted away by the time Kenma gathered the nerve to look up again. "I just figured it was the best place to try and find you. Or, y'know, the only place, considering you ditched so fast and I never caught much except your name," he explained. Maybe Kenma's memory was faulty, but he didn't recall this sudden aversion to eye contact, and he certainly didn't remember the long, hesitant pauses that now crowded in between Kuroo's words. But when their eyes met again, there was a familiar, teasing gleam there, one that sent a shot of warmth coursing through Kenma's skin. "Plus I had to make sure your story checked out and wandering into strangers' weddings wasn't some habit of yours. I was still a little bit suspicious."

Kenma rolled his eyes but he felt himself smiling anyway, which was also all too familiar. "You're one to talk. Who between the two of us has actually crashed a wedding on purpose? I'm pretty sure it's not me," he replied, eyebrows raised.

Kuroo laughed and the sound was more musical than Kenma's memory had managed to capture. "Fair enough." Kenma watched as Kuroo gave him the briefest once-over, eyes flickering fast in a way that wasn't meant to be noticed, and he couldn't recall the last time - or any time, really - where he'd liked the feeling of having someone look at him. "Are you wearing the same clothes from the other wedding?" Kuroo asked, amused.

"No. This is a different cardigan," he replied with a shrug, only a little bit defensive, because all told, repeating outfits was extremely low on his list of concerns.

"Oh my god, you're wearing the same clothes. I can't even believe--"

"What's the big deal? Nobody here saw me last week."

"I did!"

"Well, you're not supposed to be here, wedding crasher," Kenma reminded him.

"No way, I'm not crashing. I'm your plus-one," Kuroo said smugly. "You said it yourself: I'm with you."

 _I'm with you_ , Kenma repeated in his head. The words filled his chest with blooming warmth that curled between his ribs and left everything glowing, and it was almost nauseatingly saccharine and yet...and yet...

"You're wearing the same tie as last week," Kenma pointed out, dragging his mind up from its haze.

"Am I?" Kuroo flipped the end of the tie between his fingers and squinted. "Do you seriously remember that?" he asked, glancing up at Kenma with a grin. Kenma said nothing, but the color he felt flooding his face answered for him. "Huh. I didn't realize you were paying such close attention to my fashion choices."

"I wasn't. You remembered mine," Kenma argued.

"Sure. Totally the same thing, remembering a whole outfit and remembering one specific tie. Aw, you like me after all, don't you?" Kuroo asked, nudging his shoulder into Kenma's and laughing.

Kenma shoved back, shaking his head and trying, desperately, to play this off. "You're okay, Kuro," he replied, and was actually kind of impressed by how even his voice was, considering his stomach had started doing flips.

"Only okay?"

Kenma shrugged. "Very okay."

"Upgraded to very? That's incredible."

"Fairly decent is also applicable."

"Wholly acceptable," Kuroo continued.

"Mostly acceptable," Kenma corrected, and Kuroo snorted.

"You flatter me, Kozume Kenma, I'm practically swooning. What are you trying to get out of me, anyway?" he teased, leaning on his elbow and drumming his fingers along the table's edges.

Kenma's brain dutifully began listing a whole host of mortifying answers and he bit his tongue. "Nothing, really. I didn't even ask you to show up here," he replied, fussing with the ends of his sleeves to avoid eye contact. He winced at how cold that sounded and then it hit him all at once: Kuroo actually liked him enough to crash a wedding on purpose, merely for the opportunity to see him again. That was something. That was more than something, and that warm feeling was spreading over his whole body now. So, quietly, he added on, "But I'm glad you did."

There it was. Kuroo was doing that unbearably nice genuine smile again, and it made Kenma's heart thud so loud and so fast that he was sure the entire venue could hear it. "Yeah?" Kuroo asked, and his voice was soft, sweet, even sweeter than his smile.

Kenma could only manage a nod in reply; it felt like someone had stuffed cotton down his throat and he couldn't say a word, but at the same time he was practically floating out of his seat.

Shouyou's words from earlier drifted through his mind like birds in flight: _When you know, you know...the trick is not to ignore it._ All the earlier arguments and justifications, all the denials, the ways he tried to convince himself last week wasn't anything special, it all seemed meaningless now. He'd told himself Kuroo didn't think much of him, but if he was here, he had to, didn't he? And Kenma had repeated nothings endlessly: it was nothing, it meant nothing, he felt nothing. But what, then, was the weird fluttering, all the internal somersaulting, the very distinct reactions he was having?

This whole thing was kind of. Well. _Romantic_ , he thought to himself, and his mind hummed in distinct approval.

"Kenma? Kenma!" Kuroo was snapping his fingers in Kenma's face and he jolted back to reality.

"Huh?"

"You were totally zoning out on me. Come on, I only just got here, did I already bore you out of your mind?" Kuroo asked.

"No, of course not. Sorry. Long day."

"Ugh, yeah, tell me about it, this shit's endless," Kuroo groaned. "Bokuto and Akaashi's whole shebang was a solid weekend of mind-numbing exhaustion, I pretty much slept through this week to recover." He stared around the reception hall, granting Kenma time to recover from his daydreaming. "Christ, this place is fucking packed. How the hell did anyone spot me in the first place?"

"Kageyama could smell your fear," Kenma joked with the ends of his mouth quirked up, and he practically beamed when Kuroo started laughing. It was strange how Kuroo just made him want to keep talking, with laughter or continued bantering bestowed as a reward. So he pointed out to the dance floor and started, "Hey, see that girl there?"

"Who, the one about to breakdance?" Kuroo snorted.

"Yup. That's Shouyou's little sister Natsu."

"Oh shit, yeah, look at that hair. Who else could she be? She looks taller than him, though."

"She is. He's very put-out by it, I think he sulked for a week straight when she hit her growth spurt," Kenma said, before redirecting Kuroo's attention elsewhere. "And all the dark-haired ones at that table are Kageyama's siblings."

Kuroo's eyebrows shot up. "No way, there's like an army of them. Jesus, they're practically identical, that's so uncanny."

"There's six of them including him, as far as I can tell. He's the youngest."

"Is he? That's fucking hilarious! No wonder he's so pissed all the time," Kuroo laughed.

"You missed it earlier, they were trying to do a human pyramid in the middle of the reception hall and he freaked out. Shouyou had to stop him from committing mass murder."

"I bet he's used to that by now."

"I would hope so." Kenma nodded to another corner of the dance floor. "And that whole crowd there--"

"The circle of guys who can't dance?"

"Exactly. They used to play volleyball with Shouyou and Kageyama back in the day."

"No shit?"

"Nope. That's how the two of them first met, actually, they were teammates in high school."

"What'd they play? Positions, I mean. Shorty doesn't strike me as a libero, but I dunno what else he'd do being so small," Kuroo commented, his eyes roving to follow Kageyama and Shouyou, who were now whirling across the dance floor in a hurricane of flailing limbs.

Kenma wracked his brains. "Kageyama was a setter, and I think Shouyou played middle blocker," he said slowly, lips twisted.

"No fucking way, he's tiny," Kuroo scoffed dismissively.

"No, he did, I remember," Kenma refuted with more certainty. "I saw a few of his games in college."

Kuroo kept staring at them, as if he was analyzing Shouyou's ability to be a middle blocker. Finally he said, "Alright. I'll buy it. What was his thing, was he good at something in particular?"

"I know he was always a better spiker than blocker," Kenma said. "Especially with Kageyama. They had this insanely fast quick."

"Little redundant there, a fast quick. Being fast is kind of the point of a quick," Kuroo replied dryly, and Kenma rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I know that, but theirs was...different. If you saw it you'd get what I was saying."

"I'll take your word for it. So they were a little setter and spiker combo, they had their own special move, and now they're married. Cute," Kuroo grinned. "That's cool, though, I used to play."

"Did you?" Kenma asked, intrigued. But now that he considered it, it made sense; no wonder Kuroo was asking so many questions if he, too, had been serious about volleyball.

"Mm-hmm. Middle blocker just like Shouyou. I was captain in my third year of high school, too." Kenma felt Kuroo's gaze on him, gauging his reaction. Or, more likely, waiting for him to be impressed.

The image of a younger Kuroo all decked out in a volleyball uniform had settled itself comfortably in Kenma's brain, but he managed to keep enough wit about himself to question, "How did you see the ball with your hair in your face all the time?"

"It's called natural talent," Kuroo explained haughtily, puffing his bangs out of his eyes as he spoke. "Didn't take shit from smartasses like you, either."

"Were there many smartasses like me?" Kenma asked.

Kuroo grinned. "None I got along with, so no, not much like you," he said, and it was like someone set off fireworks in the pit of Kenma's stomach. "We were never that great. My high school team, that is."

"Why not?"

Kuroo shrugged. "Didn't have enough luck on our side, I guess. The real problem was that we could never find a solid setter, it was a constant revolving-door thing. So it was hard. Unstable, y'know? We did our best but the team never came together like it should have. Like we were always missing something somewhere," he explained. "It was fun, though." The words didn't match the pensive, almost melancholy, look on his face, and he noticed the furrow in Kenma's brow and seemed to catch himself. "Sorry. Brought down the mood a bit," he said.

Kenma shook his head. "It's fine. I asked because I wanted to know," he replied. "It must have been important to you. Just from how you talk about it." It was a new dimension to him, Kenma realized, this more serious demeanor, and it was kind of fascinating.

"Yeah. Yeah, it was," Kuroo said wistfully.

They watched the flashing lights and the movements on the dance floor for a long, quiet minute before words tumbled from Kenma's mouth: "Come dance with me."

He wasn't sure if it was because he was trying to cheer Kuroo up, or because he'd been daydreaming about their box steps since last week, or just because he wanted to, but regardless, Kuroo nodded with that same sweet smile playing on his mouth, and Kenma practically felt sparks when he let his fingers wind around Kuroo's and led him out to the crowded dance floor.

"You remember from last week?" Kuroo asked.

"How could I forget such detailed instructions," Kenma monotoned, smiling all the same.

"Hey, I never said I was a dance teacher. Take what you can get," Kuroo retorted as they started their box steps, Kenma's feet following after Kuroo's without even thinking. Of course he remembered; the constant one-two-three-four had been looping in the back of his mind for so long now, it was second nature. "Although..."

"Hmm?"

Kuroo shrugged as he dodged some passerby. "My memory slipped a little bit. I forgot all about the dire importance of hand positioning," he said, one eyebrow raised.

"Hand positioning," Kenma repeated, dubious.

"It's highly significant to the waltz," Kuroo informed him, sounding so much like some kind of dance scholar that Kenma started snickering, and soon Kuroo broke his facade and grinned. "Alright, alright, get a hold of yourself. It is important though, you're not supposed to be dangling your arms like wet noodles. Have some class here." He shook their linked hands for effect and Kenma could have sworn he laced their fingers together more tightly before readjusting. "See, it's supposed to be more like this."

Carefully, Kuroo guided one of Kenma's hands onto his shoulder and put his own on the small of Kenma's back, pulling them the slightest bit closer together, but it was enough that Kenma almost forgot to breathe. Their other hands stayed wound together as one, held out formally, as if they really were ballroom dancing instead of just fudging it at a wedding reception, bathed in cheap technicolor lights. "There. Much better," Kuroo said with a satisfied nod. Their box steps became less regimented until they were only swaying back and forth, taking steps without looking, too lost watching each other. Kenma felt like he should say something, anything; maybe about how this long week's heavy melancholy had evaporated, or how every time the terrible lights flashed red they sent highlights streaking through Kuroo's hair, or how his heartbeat was racing so fast it ought to hurt but didn't, but at the same time, it was like he didn't need to say any of it. Kuroo seemed to know, and Kenma listened to him inhale shakily, felt his fingers tighten just the slightest bit, and start, "So...I was wondering if..."

All at once Kenma felt a tug on his arm and laughter was blaring in his ear as Shouyou's sister Natsu dragged him into...what the hell, was this a _conga line_?

He felt dizzy from getting spun around as Natsu pushed him into the line, babbling loudly at him all the way - anyone who thought Shouyou was a motormouth really ought to meet his baby sister, because she had him beat any day. "Natsu. Natsu, stop, I was talking to..." Kenma tried irately, but no one paid him any heed and he frowned. "No, really, you have to..." he attempted, louder this time, but naturally no one was going to hear him amidst the pounding music and the excited chattering and he frowned as the line led him to the other side of the room. This hadn’t been on the agenda.

"See, I don’t know about you..." started a voice in his ear, and Kenma turned to see Kuroo walking alongside the line and grinning.

"What?" Kenma asked.

"I’m pretty sure you owed me that dance. What am I gonna do without my waltzing partner? Get murdered by angry grooms, probably. And it’ll be on your head," Kuroo teased; Kenma huffed and rolled his eyes. "You’re so dismissive of my inevitable demise. What was it you said last week? Bludgeoning by disco ball? How will they explain that to my mom, huh?"

"Not my fault. You crashed and I got abducted," he asserted, and Kuroo scoffed. "You were there, you saw it. I’m blameless."

"Flimsy excuse, Kozume."

"What do you want me to do? I’m trapped," Kenma deadpanned, shrugging his shoulders helplessly.

"Uh-huh. Bet you were just trying to get away," Kuroo replied, twisting his lips into something that was meant to be a smirk but turned into some kind of sad almost-grimace that made a pang echo through Kenma’s chest.

"No I wasn’t. It was nice," Kenma argued, but Kuroo didn’t seem to be listening.

"You know, if you didn’t wanna dance you could have just said so. I can take it," Kuroo went on, hands in his pockets, and Kenma furrowed his brow.

"It’s not that. I was the one who asked you to dance, remember? Of course I want to," he insisted, as earnest as he could be as he struggled not to trip over his own feet in a desperate attempt to keep up with the rest of the line.

"Of course?" Kuroo repeated slowly. The teasing lilt had vacated his voice entirely and he looked serious again, as if he was actually worried.

"Of course," Kenma repeated. "So help me out of this. I swear they’re going faster and faster every second, I’m gonna get trampled soon."

Kuroo smiled and it was so good to see him looking like himself again that Kenma mirrored it without realizing what he was doing. "Don’t worry, don’t worry, I’ve got you," Kuroo assured him; with that, he wound an arm around Kenma’s waist and spun him out of the conga line in one fluid motion, his absence immediately filled by the people behind him. Thank god.

"I wouldn’t ditch you. Really," Kenma went on sincerely, staring up at Kuroo as they rearranged themselves back into their waltzing positions.

"No?" There was an odd look flickering in Kuroo’s eyes, something between concern and curiosity.

"Absolutely not," he replied, his answer quick and his voice firm, because the idea that Kuroo thought otherwise was downright torturous. "Someone else, maybe, but...well...not you."

It was hard to tell in the light, but he could have sworn Kuroo was blushing.

An idea struck him as Kuroo's fingers tangled themselves in his own again, but it took a full minute for him to gather the resolve. Jaw set, Kenma pulled their clasped hands apart and instead settled his own on Kuroo's shoulder. He shrugged off the question hovering in Kuroo's eyes. "People do it like this in the movies, don't they?" he answered. Kuroo nodded silently, mouth hanging open a little bit and his loose hand still hanging at his side. Kenma sighed impatiently, grabbed Kuroo's wrist, and settled his hand near the other on his back, close enough that his fingers overlapped. "I'm not wrong. I've watched dumb teen movies," he tacked on, daring Kuroo to challenge him. "What?"

"No, you're right. You're absolutely right," Kuroo answered hastily, and his face was definitely red by now, there was no doubt about it.

They kept swaying as the party spun on around them, and somehow, without him even really noticing, Kenma's hands slid up Kuroo's shoulders to clasp behind his neck, feeling short locks of hair brush against his fingers, and they were so close now, mostly because Kenma was pretty sure Kuroo was slouching the slightest bit to accommodate their height difference. In the moment it seemed so thoughtful that Kenma almost forgot to ask, "What were you saying earlier?"

Kuroo's eyes had slid shut somewhere along the line and he opened them slowly, eyebrows raised. "That was a long time ago, Kenma, I can't possibly remember," he replied, grinning at Kenma's scowl.

"But it sounded important." Kenma glanced around them, just to be safe. "See, look, no conga line passing by. No interruptions. Tell me." Kuroo stayed silent, eyes rooted to the ground. "You said you were wondering something?" Kenma prompted, and he let his fingers delicately card through the bottom fringes of Kuroo's hair, purposely this time, coaxing him to speak.

It seemed to work, because Kuroo sighed and said, "I was wondering what you thought of me, mostly."

"I think you still don't know how to brush your hair," Kenma answered, and it was his turn to laugh at Kuroo's disgruntled expression.

"Okay, fine, that wasn't the exact question from before, but cut me some slack. I lost my nerve."

"Is it even possible for you to lose your nerve? You seem to have lots of it."

"Yes! Very much so!" Kuroo insisted. "It literally just happened, okay, I can't be perfectly suave all the time."

"What was the question?" Kenma asked again, watching Kuroo puff his bangs out of his face.

"I was wondering if...if..." Kuroo only got more flustered when Kenma raised his eyebrows, waiting patiently. "Ugh, fuck. Listen, Bokuto's gonna kick my ass if I don't follow through on this but it's really hard, alright, and he'll be even more smug about it because he's _married_ now, like, he'll get all in my face about--" He threw his voice into what Kenma assumed was supposed to be a poor mimickry of the infamous Bokuto. "--'blah blah Kuroo even I can get a date and I style my hair to look like an owl on purpose so what's your excuse you loser' and I can't put up with that, Kenma, it'll be the death of me, so I'm just going to say it." He exhaled as Kenma felt the constant fluttering in his stomach surge and overpower every inch of him. "I know we met a week ago by accident--"

"Mistake, really. I wasn't supposed to be there," Kenma reminded him, and Kuroo groaned.

"Exactly! Even worse!" he griped. "But..." His fingers were twitching anxiously against Kenma's back and it felt weirdly pleasant. "I...haven't been able to stop thinking about you all week. Like. Dead serious. It's pathetic, I know, but it's true."

The words reverberated in Kenma's head, echoed over each other in a melody, and he almost wanted to laugh, because it seemed so unlikely it'd work out this perfectly; he'd spent so much time worrying and pining when, all along, it had meant something, he was special, the swooping, soaring feeling that had latched itself onto his heart was real. "Kuro--"

"Let me finish!" Kuroo interrupted. "I complained on the phone to Bokuto for, like, a half hour the other day and he told me to break into this wedding and see you and ask you out, even though I was risking my life in doing so, and I tried to tell him it was weird, but he wouldn't let me back down! And Akaashi even said it was a good idea, which is totally unheard of; usually he curbs Bokuto's dumb shitty plans, so how could I say no at that point? They were peer-pressuring me, Kenma. _Peer-pressuring_. So here I am, ready and willing to beg you to give me a shot here--"

"Kuro, I'm not--" Kenma interjected, feeling himself smiling, trying to tell Kuroo he wouldn't reject him in a million years, but again, he was cut off. Kuroo seemed dead-set on rambling himself out of breath, and as he went on, it was like he stole all the words out of Kenma's head and left him speechless and staring.

"I'm not done! I want to be your plus-one to every wedding you go to for the rest of your life, honestly, I don't care how many conga lines there are or whose new spouse starts threatening me, I'd be happy doing these lame box steps with you til I died, probably, so. I don't know. Date me, I guess. Please." Kuroo stared at him earnestly, head turned to one side as he waited.

Kenma wasn't good with words. That much was obvious. He chewed on his lip and mulled over the colliding words in his head, all of which translated into a soft, simple feeling that defied every sentence he could have constructed.

So he stretched up on his toes and brushed his lips against Kuroo's cheek, because he was fairly certain a better answer didn't even exist.

Kuroo was still gaping at him when he sunk back to the ground. "Was that, like, a pity kiss or something?" he asked grimly, like he was expecting the worst. "Consolation prize kiss? Thanks for trying but you're a weirdo so get away from me kiss?"

Kenma scoffed. "Am I not still expertly waltzing with you?" he asked, prodding the back of Kuroo's neck as he spoke. "I don't pity kiss people, that'd be such a waste of my time."

"So...?"

"It was a yes kiss, Kuro. An acceptance kiss."

"You could have just, y'know, said yes," Kuroo grumbled, but Kenma felt tension melting out of his shoulders as he spoke.

Kenma shrugged. "Didn't seem good enough," he replied.

"So?"

"So?" Kenma imitated. "You keep saying that, it doesn't mean anything."

"Well, what now?" Kuroo asked.

"I don't know. I haven't gone out with someone since Shouyou convinced me to do speed-dating one time in college. It was horrible. You tell me."

"Why do you assume _I've_ been on dates recently?"

"Because you're significantly more attractive than me," Kenma replied blandly, and Kuroo stumbled over his feet as his eyes bulged.

"You can't...don't just _say_ things like that! Give me some warning first!" Kuroo said indignantly.

"What? You are."

"Off-topic," Kuroo decided. "You can't say that, it's not pertinent to the matter at hand."

"Okay. I suppose we'll just have to figure it out, considering both of us are blushing awkward teenagers, apparently."

"I'm not blushing."

"Yes you are."

Kuroo huffed impatiently, but then ducked down to rest his forehead on Kenma's, and the smile on his face was enough to melt anyone's heart. "Fine. Maybe I'm blushing a little bit. I'm a coquettish schoolgirl, what can I say? Give me some recovery time here, I found out my stupid crush on a stranger was reciprocated literally two minutes ago. I'd say the situation warrants some blushing," he said.

"I'll let it slide," Kenma answered softly. "On one condition."

"Hmm?"

"Kiss me."

He appeared to consider it. "You drive a hard bargain there, Kozume," he said, mock-seriously, but the gleam in his eyes had Kenma's heart skipping beats and, without even thinking about it, he started tilting his head up to meet Kuroo's mouth. The whole world fell away around them; even the blaring music and incessant chattering of partygoers faded out, so much that all Kenma heard was Kuroo murmuring, "But I think I can manage it."

Kissing him felt like something Kenma had been doing all his life, something he didn't have to worry about or even spare a single thought to. It happened like he was always meant to do it.

"See! I told you, Kenma, _gwah_!" Shouyou shouted over his shoulder as he and Kageyama sped by, still careening around the dance floor in an increasingly-menacing sort of way. They only seemed to be going faster and with less control. Someone was going to get elbowed in the face at this rate, Kenma decided silently.

"What’s shorty talking about?" Kuroo asked, watching the happy couple vanish into the crush of bodies.

"Long story with lots of fake words," Kenma said with a shrug. "Don’t feel like talking about it right now, though."

"Aw, why not? I’m curious."

"Kissing’s more important."

"I like the way you think," Kuroo replied, pressing kisses on Kenma’s cheeks, and when Kenma started laughing - no, if he was honest, it was more like _giggling_ , a noise he’d never heard leave his mouth before - he could feel Kuroo’s smile growing against his skin.

He almost felt like he ought to be embarrassed, but he was too happy to even fake it.

They went on swaying in circles, connecting, reconnecting, and disconnecting over and over again when the songs lulled and went soft. Lost amidst the crowd bathed in cheap lights, dodging other couples and watching Kuroo grin like he'd never stop, Kenma simply couldn't imagine anything being more perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaand we're done!! wow this has been a fun whirlwind of sappy nonsense, usually i let myself get lazy and hold off on posting my fics. but i'm going on vacation next week and i didn't want to leave this on a cliffhanger so i forced myself to get through it!  
> (while i'm p sure kageyama does not have siblings and in fact it makes sense for him to not to considering how much trouble he has talking to peers - he just SCREAMS isolated shy only child - it worked for this and it was funny so. there u go. baby of the family kageyama is a thing here)  
> if you've left comments, kudos, or even just skimmed this little thing, thank you! hopefully i'll be back with other fics in...yknow...a few months...my posting history is so full of holes omg


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